


Like a Stranger (JoJoNightshade)

by JoJoNightshade



Series: Innocent [2]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Gen, Grudges, It's a start, Origami, Wrongful Imprisonment, apology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-10 00:09:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1152463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoJoNightshade/pseuds/JoJoNightshade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter is still sporting that apologetic look like he kicked his own puppy, and there’s more to why Neal doesn’t like it than ‘if Peter’s kicked his puppy, then Neal is that puppy.’ It's like watching a stranger, and that scares Neal more than anything in the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Stranger (JoJoNightshade)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!

Peter’s changed.

He thinks Neal hasn’t noticed but he has, or maybe he wants Neal to notice and take pity. No one really thinks anything of it when coffee starts appearing on Neal’s desk and lunch and practically everything he needs is handed to him on a silver platter. He suspects Peter (of course) but doesn’t say anything, waits it out.

For a couple days nothing changes. He goes to the bathroom, goes out to get lunch. Talks to Jones, and when he comes back there’s a fresh paper cup, a cardboard wrap around it like the anklet he used to sport.

No name, but he knows somehow it’s Peter’s doing. Even more so when Peter eyes him as he turns to take a sip.

Sure enough, one day Peter emerges with a stack of coffee cups (Italian roast, the expensive kind) and pours out a cup to set on Neal’s desk. Neal is sure he thinks that he hadn’t noticed, but he has, and quickly and discreetly he switches his cup with Peter’s.

He tries it and nearly spits it out in shock.

It’s bad coffee, the kind you get at the drugstore where they dilute it with gallons and gallons of tap water. But then Peter takes a sip of what was supposed to be Neal’s, and he gives Neal a look as if Neal blasted Satchmo from a cannon. A really, really big cannon. 

He doesn’t say anything. The coffee keeps coming.  
\-------------  
Then the files start appearing. Perfectly stacked, every one of them filled out and organized on his desk. One for every case he’s about to solve or attempt to, with a shining silver pen clipped to the front and a notepad for notes. No one thinks anything of that, either, except maybe Diana who glances at them and gives Peter a look.

Peter returns it with a shrug that he would probably give if he blasted his own dog from a cannon. Desperate. Apologetic. Terrified for being someone they don’t want him to be and terrified because he can’t help it.

Neal’s seen that look in the mirror, seen it when after Kate dies, a long time after, he thinks, maybe Kate was a better con than I was. Maybe Mozzie was right, and true love was the biggest con of all. He’s never seen it on Peter--Agent Peter Burke, good cop bad cop, scared worried nervous. Not lost. Not lost like he’s jumped from the edge of the world into nothing. 

Elizabeth calls him one day at work. “Is Peter with you?” she asks, her voice shaking. Neal looks around; shakes his head before realizing she can’t see him. When he replies no she says, “Gut feeling, Neal. He’s not home. He promised he would be.”

Neal runs out the door.

Two miles away, Peter’s car slams into the railing of the highway. Doctors call it lack of attention. Neal knows better.  
\---------------  
Peter makes it out of the hospital okay. He shakes his head when Neal asks him what happened, glances at him like it’s all his fault but not his at the same time. It’s the same look Neal gave him when the anklet was strapped on, and Neal can’t figure out for the life of him why.

Peter’s become almost as good a con man as Neal. He likes to think it’s his influence but knows it’s not, knows it’s the fact that his mistake landed Neal in prison. At first it’s bad--raw pain every time eyes turn his way. Then it’s worse--nothing at all. Just silent apology and a blank mask across telltale canvas.

Suspicions turn to full blast man eating worry. “It’s not your fault,” he says, every time Peter turns his way. The sad look he gets in response is terrible, then the silence is deafening and leaves his ears ringing. Peter doesn’t get any better. Neal forgives a little more.

Doors begin opening for Neal. The Metropolitan suddenly asks him to authenticate one of their prized paintings (Of course it’s a forgery) and of course Peter was the one who set it up. His reputation was bad enough but he’s never stolen anything from the Met, so maybe that’s why the manager was so eager to lunch with him.

Nagging suspicion again.

Peter’s trying to earn back his trust, slowly and slowly. Neal could run but it won’t be really running, there’s nothing holding him back this time but the fact that if he leaves NY White Collar will fall apart. 

At least, that’s what he tells himself. At this point, he’s not even sure what is his mind and what’s his con, and that scares him a little. Peter is still sporting that look like he kicked his own puppy, and there’s more to why Neal doesn’t like it than ‘if Peter’s kicked his puppy, then Neal is that puppy.’  
\----------------------  
Apologies start after.

Apology is only apology when you mean it, so by that standard Neal’s only properly apologized twice in his life (Out of everything he’s done.) By then everyone in the office knows exactly what’s going on. By then they are suspicious too.

Even Mozzie knows. Even Mozzie sees that ‘the suit isn’t acting...like a suit,’ and though that’s possibly the strangest thing Mozzie has ever said, he’s right.

“Peter thinks he should have trusted you,” Diana (Bless her) tells him when he asks her what is going on. “He thinks that if he’d just trusted you a little more, maybe you wouldn’t have spent so long imprisoned for something you didn’t do.”

“Did they get their painting back?”

“Yes, and if you’re trying to distract from the topic it’s not working. He’s sorry and he doesn’t think you’re accepting his apology. Go talk to him, Neal. You’re a con man. He’s not. Don’t fake this.” She looks over at him. “Go.” Her eyes turn to her work and just like that, he’s dismissed. 

A clumsy origami swan appears on his desk. He unfolds it, and all it says is ‘I’m sorry.’ Peter watches him from the corner of his eye. Neal tries for a smile.

The next day a whole Noah’s arc of animals appear, each one of them sporting the same message. This time Peter doesn’t watch him as much, but when he does his stare is intense and hopeful. Neal pretends he doesn’t notice.

This Peter is like someone he would have looked down upon. He doesn’t like it.

He lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

Peter’s staring at the same Noah’s ark of animals, complete with Neal supplied origami Titanic and the addition of an extra owl. It sits in the middle, tiny origami claws gripping at the mast, and Peter blinks at it stupidly. It takes everything Neal has not to laugh out loud and give him away.

Then Peter unfolds it, and all it says is, “I forgive you.” Under it is, “Unwrap the ship.”

The glance he gives Neal is ecstatic--unbelievably happy. Neal can’t remember the last time he looked like this, not even when Peter caught up to him that first time in the warehouse. The look on his face is pure joy.

Peter unfolds the ship so carefully, like the paper might fall apart under his hands. Its a big square of lopsided, folded paper, but in the middle is a perfect imitation of Peter’s handwriting--big, block letters straight to the point.

‘Peter--stop acting like a stranger. It’s freaking me out.’

Then Peter smiles, somehow folds the papers back together, and drapes the other animals back into the ‘Titanic.’ “Will do, Caffrey,” he says, and laughs for the first time in week.


End file.
